Snow Melts
by harukakatana
Summary: Sasuke is the run-away son of a rich man. After several attempts at suicide, he is saved by a boy named Naruto, who might be able to melt the ice in his heart...[FUTURE YAOI] NaruSasuNaru. Chapter 9 is up
1. The Rich Boy

Disclaimer: don't own 'em, wish I did more than all of you would realize

AN: Started out as a GaaNaru, thought it fit Sasuke's personality more...I'm not sure what I'm going to do with this fic...::wanders off in thought::

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Chapter One: The Full Moon

Sasuke shrugged his jacket on casually and grabbed his keys, stuffing them in his pocket and wandering out into the night. The wind was blowing; it was always blowing in winter. Luckily, the snow had abated, the white downy cold no longer drifting down in blanket. His feet moved of their own accord, for there was no place he wanted to go, no place to go.

He had become a wanderer of late, a rogue, no one loved, no one wanted, with no place to be. This was not new to him, but he had never before so openly embraced the concept of true freedom. A particularly forceful gust of cold air sliced down his neck, slipped down his neck like a lover's touch. He shivered against the contact, tugging his clothing closer to his body.

Footsteps fell behind him, and he dimly registered the approaching of two adults of medium build. His eyes skimmed their bodies as they passed him, stepping rather briskly. They were lovers, he knew. The sight of their hands on each other, clawing, and rasping, touching and pawing, formed a large lump in his throat. He swallowed, hard, and tore his eyes away. A queasy feeling mashed in his stomach, and he repressed it quickly. He would not admit to feeling jealousy.

The moon was full tonight, he noticed, glancing up at the sky; the cloud coverlet was thick, but where it broke, a glowing sphere shone down on him. He hissed at it through gritted teeth, feeling as though the perfect circle laughed at him with silent humor. He ducked his head, and urged his feet on, knowing he should be home, knowing he did not have one.

Tonight, he thought to himself, grim amusement arousing a smile on his lips. Tonight, I'm going to die.

He did not want to die, but there was nothing else for him to do. He had no point in life any longer, his soul had simply given up the will to continue.

Tonight...

It was always tonight, always the night of a full moon, when he would die, when he would walk until his feet would move no more. He would collapse, then, and stare at the sky until darkness overtook him. But he always felt a tug in his stomach, a purpose goading him on, that would not let him die.

Always he tried to die. Always he found he could not.

Always he would find strength to stand, always he would walk to the next town, or village, or farm house, or city. It didn't matter to him. He had failed death once more.

He had been born into wealth. He supposed that was why he hated money. It had its uses, he admitted bitterly each time he approached a teller and punched in his pin number. Each time he pulled out the bills and paid for the first apartment he could find with a one month lease. He didn't need more than a month. Full moon is every 28 days, after all.

The city he had stumbled into, dragging himself along the road as the sun rose, had been larger than most. He had sat on the steps of a bank, waiting until they opened, ignoring the stares of any who passed. A sort of sadistic, sinister pleasure awaited him, one he never tired of, when he told them his name.

Aghast and shocked, their amazement was plain at the disheveled raggedy young man with worn shoes before them. The insane amount of money he possessed never ceased to dazzle the mind. He always withdrew more than necessary, and never returned. He was, in his very essence, a runaway, and he would not be caught.

Always signing under false names, he would live in humble luxury for four weeks. He had no purpose, no reason to awake in the morning, but he did anyway, awaiting the next full moon. His heartbreakingly attractiveness promised him company, provided he did not truly look at the nameless fucks that wafted his way.

He could not remember their names afterwards; he had begun to realize the fact that he was merely a shell. He also realized there was no point in remembering the names of someone with her skirt above her legs. He lived for the moment, the here and now, knowing neither true pleasure nor true companionship.

So he had lived the last 5 years of his life, waiting only for the full moon, hoping he would finally succumb to his unbearable weariness and rest. So the full moon smiled down on him, laughing at him in her quiet, bitter way as his feet crunched the fresh snow leading out of the city.

Even the suburbs were widespread, he noticed irritably after several hours of walking. He would have to continue until he was well past all dwellings. He refused to die in the company of anyone but himself. The snow had begun to fall once more, though not in full force, merely sprinkling him with frost. His shoulders weighed a ton, and his feet had begun to bleed, the monthly wounds reopening.

The city lights, a glittering cap of brilliance and lies, had long faded away, being devoured by the ever-encroaching horizon. Even the small homes—farms and cabins—had seemed to disappear. A wolf howled in the distance, indicating he had already reached the forest.

The woods will be a good place to die, he thought grimly. His lungs burned with cold fire, and the lactic acid in his well-muscled legs had begun to pump through his system. He was out of breath—had been out of breath; he could not continue much longer.

Another break in the clouds cast milky light upon shining crystallized water. Sasuke was tired, oh so tired, and he wanted to sleep. A snow drift waited for him, the soft ice an inviting bed. He collapsed on top of the soft blankets, his head cradled by a frozen pillow.

His eyelids slid down, and he felt his body shut down. I've done it,he thought with a grin as sick pleasure flooded his body. I'm finally going to die. Damn you all...damn...everything...

And then he fell asleep, into a sleep from which he could not wake alone. He shielded his eyes against a blazing light. He felt warm, hot. Energy covered him in waves and lapped at his clothes. Blue eyes focused on him, blonde hair rippled, and a hand seized his. No...no, oh no...let me die, just this once, he begged. Let this agony end.

No.

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Sorry if that was confusing...hehe...it'lll all make sense later...


	2. The Other Boy

Disclaimer: TT I KNOW!!! They belong to a very mean man named Kishimoto who won't admit that his two main characters are gay.

AN: OO people reviewed! ::faintspasmtwitter:: arigatou ::bows and nods::

Everyone, thank you for your positive reviews...they were really helpful hehe

Miffy: yes, I know that Sasuke was a whore by having sex with whores...that's why I said it that way, thanks for catching it

Yaoilover S: thank you for the cake, it was AWESOME

And now I'll shut up...

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Chapter Two

It felt wrong. Something felt wrong, nothing felt wrong, everything felt wrong. It all felt i wrong /i . He pressed his fingers to his lips, arching his back languidly, curving his spine, stretching his tense muscles. His feet padded to the window, and he slipped the curtains aside, flicking the latch-lock, and slipping his head out the open glass. He bit his lips as he braced for the cold winter chill, the onslaught of dead iciness that smashed into his face and flooded down his spine.

The moon was full. He hadn't expected her to be full so soon; a month had slid by him swiftly, flown by on wings he hadn't heard. Something was wrong. Something about the celestial orb floating above him, basking the world in an ethereal cream. Something about the light was distant and unfamiliar. He felt this pit drop out of his stomach, and clenched his fists tightly. Something felt wrong.

He slammed the glass shut as hard as possible, rattling his teeth as it shook against the pane. Slowly his body moved away from the window, away from the alien feeling, and towards the fire blazing in the hearth. He plopped down in a high-backed chair, staring into the wavy flames, trying to push the urgent, nagging feeling from his mind.

Something was calling him. Something out there, in the cold, in the moonlight, in the snow. He shut his eyes, attempting to silence the call he felt in his heart, but was unable to quiet himself.

Breath slipped out of his lips quickly as he bent over, gripping his jacket and slipping it onto his shoulders. Boots were filled with warm toes and laced by quivering hands as his mind tried to sort out the confusion broiling inside. A big dog barked at him as quietly as it could manage; he turned around and winked at the canine before clicking the porch light on and thrusting open the door.

The snow crunched loudly under his feet, the cold air bit his cheeks and nose, the moonlight cloaked him in a milky calm. Everything so familiar, so well known, seemed as though he was experiencing the snow and the moon and the cold for the first time. As though he was a seasoned soldier afraid of his next kill, as one is of their first.

He shook his head of such thoughts, the thoughts of a madman. He would be returning to the city soon enough, he knew, but it did not feel like it. Out there, in the frozen woods, under the moonlight, time stood still. He was alone, in a way he had never experienced, and it frightened him, made him want to scream and claw and run for safety that could not be found.

He silently wondered if he would be able to find his way home, casting a cautious glance behind him; he noticed the light from his deck shining like a beacon. The light would guide him home, he knew, guide him back. But back from where. He was going somewhere, he registered dimly, but he didn't know where, and that bothered him.

He walked in silence, shooting the occasional surreptitious look behind him, wondering if he was truly alone. He felt another's presence with him, heard another's voice calling out to him; he attributed this to madness. He would have chosen madness over the possibility of being followed or being watched.

He wondered, not for the first time, why he had chosen to leave the sanctity of his cabin, and traverse the frozen wasteland. To quench the need to follow some path his body knew, but would not share with him.

He weaved his way through trees spit in the middle, as though they had been struck by frozen lightning. He knew it was because of the cold, because the sap had expanded, causing it to explode. But on tonight, when the world was hushed, and even the breeze was silent, he could imagine icy fire streaking from the sky, splitting the wooden trunk.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of such thoughts, only to be grasped by a pounding need and agony. He felt a tug at his stomach, and began to run. He didn't know why he ran, didn't know why he had to run. But he had to. So he did.

It was just a little ball in the distance, a tiny lump of black on the white snow. He at first assumed it to be a rock, or thick tangle of winter plants, but he knew it was neither. He could see the figure clearly, as if it was at his feet and the sun was shining. He knew what it was, knew it was why he had felt so compelled to endure the cold beyond the warmth of his home, knew it was important to him.

It was a body.

He staggered towards it, cupping pale blue cheeks in his hands, staring down at shut eyes. The body belonged to a young man, not much older than he was, 23 at oldest. His hair was as dark as a raven's wing, and his lips, though blue with cold, were rimmed by a light rose tint.

He looked like a fallen angel. Though the body was stiff, the blonde man was able to lift him onto his shoulders with minimal exertion. The man's cold cheek rested against his, the frosty contact sending an ironically smoldering feeling through him.

The man's breathing was labored, ragged; he was dying. The mobile of the two men started back towards his cabin, the light glimmering in the distance like a tiny diamond in a bed of dark coal. It was well past midnight, he assumed, and the world had become increasingly cooler, the nipping chill becoming a biting frost.

His breath was a shroud, a thin veil, and as he walked, he wondered if he had any resemblance to a bride. He had begun panting, the thick drifts of snow making each step increasingly more laborious. The heavy body on his back did not help; though it was not dead weight, he still weighed more than a man of such a petite figure should.

With agonizing slowness, one that would make molasses antsy, they eased closer to the large cabin. The dog began to bark as his master approached, waiting by the door as it was flung open. He sniffed his master and the strange thing on his back, growling momentarily before trotting off to gnaw on a bone.

He staggered into his room, the weight on his back seeming to ease as he neared the bed, turning his back to the downy coverlet. Gingerly, he eased the cold body onto the sheets, hastily scurrying to a cupboard for thick blankets, draping them over the shivering man. He was satisfied when the man looked nearly twice his weight, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb him.

His hand reached out, tentatively stroking the pale blue cheek nearest him. "Don't be afraid," he muttered softly, unsure whether his words were heard or not by the unconscious male. "I won't leave you." He lay down next to the boy, blonde hair brushing against icy cheeks, praying the warmth of the blankets and fire would be enough to open eyes he knew, though he had never seen, were far more beautiful than gemstones.

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okay, I swear to you ALL there WILL BE dialogue in the next update...I had a little bit too much fun describing stuff though X3 you understand...again, hope it wasn't too confusing


	3. The Dialogue

Disclaimer: you know they ain't mine cuz they're always wearing clothes...damnit

AN: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! All of your great reviews made this more fun to write than I thought it would be. I'm sorry about the amount of time it took to produce this. ::Sheepish grin:: I've been sick and without internet for the last two weeks. I'm hoping to have the next chapter out in a few days.

::bows to everyone:: Enjoy

::shuts up and wanders off for food:: I hunger...

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Chapter Three

It wasn't his body. These weren't his hands, those weren't his feet, he wasn't who he had been when he had shut his eyes and fallen asleep. Somewhere in his mind, he dimly recognized that to be realizing this he had awoken, but pushed the thought away. To acknowledge this, would mean he had failed once more.

His eyes were clamped shut; he didn't want to open them, wouldn't open them. This place wasn't where he should be, he knew, without having to see. He was warm, and he was comfortable. And he was alive. Three things he should not have been.

He flexed his fingers and realized why they felt so foreign, so alien. They barely responded to him. His feet reacted in like fashion. Light shone from behind his closed eyelids, the hazy glow at once inviting and frightening. Absently, he wondered why he was so afraid, nearly terrified, of opening his eyes.

He was in another person's home, this much he had gathered. Nothing material in the desolate wasteland he had been "rescued" from felt like soft, cottony linen, nothing was as warm as a downy coverlet, nothing had the crackling sputter of a fireplace. Straining his ears as much as his weak body would allow him, he detected two sets of breathing.

The first he heard was beside him, and was deep and loud and hot and moist and undeniably panting. Whether it was a large dog or a man out of breath, he did not know, and could not choose which he preferred. The second sounds of respiration were lighter, fainter, and coming from his right.

Suddenly, he felt something scalding slide against his still-cool face and he sat bolt upright with a start. His onyx eyes looked to his right side, where his assailant had been situated, and found himself staring into deep, honey eyes. It was a large beast, and his eyes noticed the size of the dog's paws were incredibly large, like those belonging to a wolf.

His fur—for he noticed the animal was undeniably male—shone like sheet metal, glinting in the firelight. He was a lustrous silver color, as though a pewter statue had come to life and sat staring at him. The burning across his face was none other than a kiss, so to speak, from said wolf-dog. The honey-hued eyes sparkled with keen intelligence and an animalistic sense of good humor and he found himself nearly grinning in response to the beast's warm display of fangs.

Tentatively, he reached out to the animal, his fingers stinging as he scrunched them to stroke the creature's forehead. The dog made a faint, guttural sound of pleasure, and scooted closer to him. Whether he had purposely chosen not to think about the other being in the room with them or had truly forgotten, it did not matter.

Four wooden legs of a high-backed, red velvet chair squeaked as the weight on them shifted. His hand fell to his side, the dog nuzzling his hand for more affectionate touches. He could not, however, find the ability to move. Or think. Or speak. Or breathe.

Somehow, the air seemed to be squeezed out of his lungs as he forgot his own name. His body hummed with energy, as though he would jump from a great height or perform another equally daring task. Adrenaline flooded through his veins and the gates in his mind opened and shut, trying to process what stood before him. His mouth followed the actions of his mental doors, flopping between shut and gaping like a trout.

Promiscuity had always been one of his top values, and he prided himself in achieving his goals easily. He knew he was handsome—he had inherited his father's good looks and naturally muscular form, softened by his mother's graceful and elegant features. He could have anyone he wanted, and often did. Though he frequented with women, there had been the occasional man to wander into his bed. Now, staring at the figure before him, he felt as though he was a virgin, eyes gliding along the form of his first lover.

The first feature he noticed were the other man's deep, almost painfully blue eyes, glittering with a sort of permanent mischief. Forcefully ripping his gaze away from their azure depths, his vision wafted downwards, focusing on a beautifully sculpted nose. Beneath were large, pale pink lips, full and almost begging to be kissed. He licked his lips hungrily, starting forward reflexively, wanting to capture that mouth in his own. However, he found his legs would not move, and he voiced a faint curse, snapping himself out of his sensual reverie. Adorning that angelic face were shining golden locks, the color of waving fields of grain.

The dog beside him gently nipped his hand impatiently, tongue lolling onto his hand.

"Ookami, leave him alone," the fair man laughed gently, the dog barking in obedience and trotting to his side. He stared at the pair openly, feeling a strong kinship between the two he did not know. The blonde smiled at him widely, bearing sharper than usual canines, his face strongly resembling a fox. As he walked closer to the bed, his face seemed to be searching for the right words to strike up a conversation. It was apparent he could not find one, however, when he thrust out his hand, eyes shining. "Naruto," he grinned, his voice at once deep and light, flowing out of his mouth like warm honey.

He gazed at the hand for a second before realizing what he was meant to do. His brain was moving at a horribly sluggish speed; whether it was due to his near-death or the dazzling beauty of the man before him, he did not know. He had a sneaking suspicious it was the latter. He reached out and gripped the hand, fingers half-wrapping around the other's flesh, continuing to revolt against his wishes. "Sasuke," he said, his voice sounding embarrassingly feeble to his ears.

"Sasuke, you know you almost died out there," Naruto asked quietly as he squeezed the hand gently before releasing it. His blue eyes searched Sasuke's face, and he sighed tiredly. "It was lucky I found you when I did, or else you would be a Sasu-cicle." He laughed so adorably, the wretchedly corny joke was forgotten ignored.

Suddenly, Sasuke did not want to admit that he hated life, something about those eyes on his, that warmth radiating off that body made him ashamed of himself. He pulled his arms back, lying down on the bed, pulling the downy blankets over his body, flopping over till he faced the wall. He could feel blue eyes bore into his back with an intent stare. "I was walking outside and was tired," he lied, hating himself even more. "I just wanted to take a little nap, you understand."

"That was very bad," Naruto whispered gently, sitting on the mattress. The springs buckled under his slight weight, and Sasuke shivered, fighting the desire to snuggle close to the warm stranger. He half expected the man to run fingers through his hair, but banished such thoughts of foolishness. Though he was certain he was safer than he had ever been in his life, the man could have been a serial killer or rapist. He shivered in surprise as he felt a gentle palm rest itself on his shoulder. "Taking a nap in the snow is suicide, Sasuke."

"Yes. I know."

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Was that alright? I'm not too sure that was as good as the other chapters, but I'm not very good with keeping things descriptive and adding dialogue at once. ::blushu:: ignore me, I'm rambly :3 It's 2 in the morning...forgive


	4. The Meal

Disclaimer:...Not yet...but one day...ahahaha...ha...

AN: Yeah...I wrote another chapter...::has nothing to say right now:: XD;;;

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The Meal

He felt as though he was being devoured, those eyes swallowing him whole whenever they slid along his body. His breath hitched in his throat, snagging on the hot, burning feeling that had begun to spread through his veins, seeping along his body like paper on the water. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his eyes of the shocked surprise he knew hung there like humming birds, hovering noticeably. Heart flip-flopped as he staggered closer to the bed, suddenly feeling as though he had been drinking all night, been sampling the most intense drugs life had to offer.

His head spun like a top, mind moving sluggishly as he tried to form thoughts, tongue trying to form words. The walls were too close, he was suffocating, being compacted into tiny pieces, lungs unable to draw a tentative breath. And yet he was alone in the world, like one tiny speck standing before a monolithic god who gazed upon his eyes with steely black depths, burning into his mind and soul.

Delicate, elongated fingers glided along the soft, stubbly fur of his pet wolf, the small movement driving the breath and sense from his body. Captivated, he stared at the beautiful creature lying atop his bed who watched him in like turn, peering through his flesh, through tendons, through bone and into his soul. He was falling, drowning, dying, he registered dimly and was enjoying every second of this adrenaline-pumping death.

Then he heard teeth clamp upon the man's pale, milky skin, the noise alerting him, making his heart beat once more. He smiled lazily, vision clearing as though he had stepped from a blizzard into a warm room, aware of which way was up and down. "Ookami," he said breathily, hoping the being would mistake his sudden lack of vocal strength for laughter. "Leave him alone."

Those warm, large, almost too inviting eyes were briefly hidden behind eyelids and he longed for them, longed for them deeply. The ragged breathing still being laboriously pumped through those lusciously full lips gave him reason to believe the larynx producing such melodiously rough sounds could produce a beautiful voice. His mind searched, scrabbled, clawed frantically for something, anything, that would be witty, would strike up a conversation.

It shocked himself to find he was at the man's bedside, fingers thrusting themselves rather close to an almost equine nose. "Naruto," he choked out through a clenched throat, wondering how it was humanly possible to be so terrified of a man who could barely move.

The delicately crafted creature beneath downy coverlets peered at the hand openly, confusion etched on his face. Fear fluttered in his chest, muscles sliding over each other as his hand began to drop to his side. And then something warm encircled his wrist, the long fingers tighter than he had anticipated. Black eyes burned into his as a pale pink tongue formed the syllables. "Sasuke."

It was as though he had swallowed a rock, a brick, a boulder, a mountain, so difficult had it become to breathe. Blue eyes scanned the captivating stillness in Sasuke's face, searching for something to say to still the beating in his heart, the pace that would surely kill him. ""Sasuke, you know you almost died out there," he murmured gently, wonderin why such a fair creature would resign himself to death. Sasuke's hand still held his, burning his palms with an impossibly hot grasp. "It was lucky I found you when I did," he grinned feebly, trying to eradicate the uncomfortable silence, laughing nervously. "Or else you would be a Sasu-cicle."

The flesh fell from Naruto's hand lazily, recoiling beneath the soft blanket, disappearing beneath folds of cloth. He had been undressed to preserve warmth, his naked body concealed except for a shapely back, corded muscles rippling beneath pale skin. "I was walking outside and was tired," Sasuke muttered. "I just wanted to take a little nap, you understand."

"That was very bad." The wavering, regretful quiver in the man's voice was indication enough of a farce, but Naruto did not wish to press such things. All in due time. Tucking a corner of the puffy blanket under the boy's body, he sat on the mattress, tentatively reaching to stroke that silken hair, gleaming in the firelight. "Taking a nap in the snow is suicide, Sasuke," he whispered gently, fingers entwining themselves in painfully soft locks.

"Yes." His tone was bland, quiet, absent of any regret or remorse, as though he had not a care in the world and no reason to feel the frivolous emotions of humans. "I know."

He couldn't have been much older than Naruto, his face was a soft, rosy shade of peach, his muscles lean and taught, his body un-marred by disfigurements. And yet, his voice was heavy with pain, with sorrow, with some type of unknown torment no one should ever undergo. His heart was being torn into small, miniscule shards, drowning him in the shattered pieces of hurt and anguish. Naruto could tell, from the dark, heady cloud in his voice, the slow, lifeless movements of his body, the bland, pointless tone in which he spoke. Naruto could tell.

Warm breath rolled from parted lips as he rose to his feet slowly, the large silver beast padding over to him adoringly. Absently his fingertips stroked the animal's almost metallic brow, caressing slowly while his mind whirred and clicked, sorting out pieces of information. "I think," Naruto said softly after a few minutes of silence. "I shall go find us something to eat—"

Those warm fingers clasped his hand once more, making his muscles jolt from the contact, only small bits due to surprise. His eyes wafted to Sasuke's upturned face, drifting lower to take in the man's nude body. He had managed to adjust himself, sliding along the mattress till his unclad legs dangled from the sheets. Blush burning his cheeks, reddening his ears, twinging his nose, he turned away quickly.

"Why don't my legs move?" Sasuke asked quietly, voice thick with concern and something borderline fear. "Why can't my fingers move like they should? Why do my toes not wiggle and curl against the blanket? Why is my body so stiff? Why am I naked?" The last question had more than a hint of accusation to it, the sharp intake of breath through Naruto's lips proving to both it was not unfounded.

"I'm going to get us something to eat," he repeated sullenly, wanting to ease this stranger's pain. He knew not—nor wanted to know—why he could not keep himself from craving this man's safety, desiring his happiness more than his own. "When I return, I'll explain to you in depth the repercussions of 'napping in the snow.'" His voice lilted in good humor, not wanting Sasuke to find him abrasive and threatening.

His response was merely a faint moan in consent and the sound of sheets crinkling as flesh moved over them. He turned to see Sasuke's satin-like leg disappear beneath blue sheets, and began to wander to the kitchen. Ookami stayed behind, receiving the gentle stroking ministrations of the bed-ridden man.

He padded into the kitchen, oaken floors creaking under his slight weight, thankful the heater worked in all rooms, keeping the chilling frost from battering the three males. He glanced around the hallway he drifted through, taking in the decorations and adornments for the first time in detail. He had inherited the cabin from some relative and had traveled from his hometown to the isolated wooded mountainous region each winter for solitude with Ookami.

Upon entering the tiled kitchen, hopping briefly as the cold assailed his warm feet, he opened the refrigerator slowly, eyes scanning labels grimly. He craned his neck around the sheet-metal covered door, calling, "I only have turkey, if you want a sandwich..."

Sasuke laughed from the other room weakly, his action melding into a fit of coughing from which he quickly recovered. "No, thank you. I don't eat meat."

Naruto sighed in mild contentment at the man's words, feeling somewhat relieved that they shared their preferences of sustenance in common. It was a small start, however, no matter how humane it was. "That's just as well," he shouted back, deciding upon a few chilled slices of cheese pizza lying in the back of the cold box.

Holding two plates of cheese-laden bread in hand, he returned to Sasuke, handing him one plate slowly, looking away to hide his blush as their fingertips brushed against each other. "I'm a vegetarian, too," he muttered awkwardly. As Sasuke's lips opened to engulf the food, tongue curling backwards to allot the sustenance more space, Naruto gulped, suddenly losing his appetite. Though he knew not how long Sasuke would share his home, of one thing he was certain—it would be a very long stay.

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really not pleased with how this one turned out...But oh well...should I keep going on this? Or should I stop writing it...? X3;; tell me what you think


	5. The whatever you call it

Disclaimer: Everytime I have to write one of these disclaimers, I die a little inside...

AN: DUDES O.O...I got a lot of reviews for the last chapter XD;; It made me feel amazingly happy...which made me write faster...hence the early update...instead of on tuesday...tee hee ::does happy dance:: you guys make me feel sooo awesome...Now I think, I should do some shoutouts :3...ah hell, I'll put 'em at the end...now read XD...oh, and review too? :3;; they make me smile a lot

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Chapter Five

It was one of those moments where the world felt stilled, felt hushed, as though life itself was dying and yet being born anew. It was one of those effervescent moments when the tension, the raw, unbridled humanity was to the climax, life and death touching, colliding, agreeing, conflicting in the same breathtaking instant. It was a moment when nothing seemed familiar and yet nothing had ever changed, had never been different. It was one of those lapses in sense and sensibility when you knew your life was changing, that you were conciously thrusting yourself into a new, dangerous walk of life, though you allowed nothing to stop you, knowing you were forever derailed from your former life.

Life ended and death began, death ended and life began, the line between them blurring until everything hovered in one moment of a chaotic void. It was as though existence itself teeterred on a precipice, waiting to fall, to tumble, to crash, to end if a fell gust of wind caressed its side gently, touching it the wrong way. Lungs were pressed tightly, bodies were dotted with sweat, eyes blurred and tongues dried, muscles tensed and adrenaline pumped in that instant, that second, that moment, that heart pounding, mind shattered nearly orgasmic holding of breath that lasted forever and ended in an instant.

His body hummed, cried, screamed, sang, wept, demanded, pleaded he move, he run, but could do nothing. He watched with a detached sense of interest as he saw his fate before him, gazed at the life he would lead, his past fading behind him as he was born anew. He wanted to throw himself on the floor and beat the ground till his palms were bloody if only to expend some of the building pressure in his skull. But he could not move, could not function, could not breathe; he could merely stare ahead, stare at his future, his fate, his destiny as it sat before him. As it took a bite of cheese pizza.

He felt a coarse shiver run down his spine, burning the trail it ran and he knew that this blonde boy before him would alter his life beyond all possible belief. Eyes hovered on an elegantly sculpted nose, like that of a cherubim, a angel seated at the right hand of some monolithic diety. Full, gentle lips closed over the slightly greasy, rather messy triangular mass of carbohydrates and fat, swallowing and tasting, licking and nibbling. Sasuke gulped, then, and realized that had he been asked scant minutes before whether eating could be defined as sensual, his answer would have been a flat out no. Now, however, he was quite thankful for the rather large mass of fluffy blankets and sheets separating certain organs from sight as he watched an elongated throat glide up and down, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Half of him wanted to reach out, taking the boy in his hand, pull him close, cling to him and never let go. Wanted to feel that soft skin, smell that lemony scent he could detect wafted from the one before him, taste and touch and caress. Half of him wanted to give into the drowning intoxication he felt when blue met black, longing met concern. It was an impossible desire, he knew, so he banished the thoughts, stored them for later.

He inhaled deeply, stilling his thoughts, his emotions, his desires and dreams, munching sullenly on the cooling food. Never a big eater, Sasuke lived off life, as corny as he knew it sounded. He looked away from those burning, fiery cerulean depths that pierced into his heart and his soul, knowing the concern etched on that tanned face was still present. It unnerved him that anyone would be so thoughtful, so trusting, so considering and caring to allow him into their home and ask no questions. It settled him, made him feel at home.

"What is it?" a masculine voice murmured gently, softly, knowing his voice was derailing a train of thought. Black eyes blinked, once, rapidly, squinting as though trying to be shielded from a non-existed brilliant light. Unable to shape his tongue, move his jaw, open his mouth, he stared dumbly at the blonde, piercing blue eyes daggering through him with a soft intensity. "What are you looking at?" he repeated gently.

"You," Sasuke responded evenly, eyebrow twitching as he realized he had spoken the truth. Naruto's eyes widened, pupils doubling in size, blush rising to his tanned cheeks. "I was just wondering," Sasuke continued smoothly, words flowing together as though they had been intended, "why anyone would bring a stranger into their home." He turned his head away, speaking softly, "I could be a murderer or a rapist..."

His neck tingled, indicating he was being watched closely, inspected, measured. Dimly, as though from someone else's body in another room, another house, through someone else's ears, he heard the faint sigh of Ookami as he settled himself and flopped down on the rug before the fireplace. Minutes, hours, days, years must have passed before the silence was broken and he could breathe again.

"You were dying," the man responded softly, setting the now-empty plate on his lap. He reached forward, then, and pressed a hand on Sasuke's still-bare back, hesitating as flesh touched flesh.

His skin tingled and burned from his shoulder, slicing his body in two, making his mind waft and wander. He couldn't begin to fathom the way he felt from a simple touch with no hidden meaning. It was a simple touch, a gentle, reassuring caress of reassurance, pointing out the obvious that someone was there for him. His personality, his genetic makeup, his experiences and past all demanded he jerk his body away coldly, rudely. But his heart melted at the touch and he was paralyzed, save his mouth that had been immobile short minutes before. "So? People die all the time. You're not a superhero--you can't expect to save everyone. Especially not some louse sleeping in a snowdrift."

Blue, so much blue, so much blue fire, consuming him, enveloping him, swallowing him and capturing him. How could something be so blue and burn so hotly? Lips curled up in a gentle smile, and Sasuke's body began to grow warm, hot. With a flick of his face, wispy blonde strands slid aside permitting those agonizingly cerulean orbs to shine into his eyes. "I don't have to save everyone," he said softly, quietly, "I just have to save one person to be a superhero so long as it's the person I love."

Hard to breathe, oh so hard to breathe. Sasuke smiled weakly and flopped over once more, turning his back to the smiling blonde. His insides roiled with nervous tension, body burning with a heat he knew well. It did not bother him to know what this hot, overpowering feeling meant—it bothered him to feel it now.

A cold, wet, slimy thing prodded his back and he jolted forward, twisting in midair. Ookami smiled up at him with a toothy, canine grin, silver fur glinting in the dimming firelight. Embers snapped and crackled quietly, cheerfully popping the remains of wooden logs as his hand moved to pet the beast. Evoking a soft, contented sigh from the wolf-dog, Sasuke's face broke into a grin, burning heat changing to a pleasant warmth.

Unsure of how to counter that almost painfully pointed statement, Sasuke continued to stroke Ookami silently. His fingers still would not move separately, and the mass lump of flesh barely moved well in unison. But it was enough to coax delighted moans and harrumphs from the large animal. He knew he was being studied, could feel the eyes scouring his body, watching, examining him, but could do nothing save ignore those blue eyes.

"I'm a doctor," the blonde said quietly after long minutes of silence, broken by the noises of a dog and crackling of a dying fire. Sasuke's eyes shot to the man's face reflexively, body giving into instinct, snagging on a gaze that burned him alive. Sasuke nodded in understanding, though he had suddenly forgotten who a doctor happened to be. Naruto smiled slightly, and cold fire shot down his spine, paralyzed him. "My job is to help people in need."

Crooking his neck to the door, Sasuke followed the motion and found his tattered and ragged clothing lying in a heap. His shoes topped the lump of linen, like a pointed star on a Christmas tree. However, instead of a shining, brilliant, pentagonally-pronged ornament, his shoes were scuffed, dirty, and he thought he spied holes in the toes.

He knew what he would see when he returned his sight to the tanned face, yet was unable to resist. A small grin played on those plush, full lips, eyes twinkling in hidden amusement. He searched for the proper wording for what he had to say, abandoning the surprisingly difficult task rapidly. "Sasuke, it seems you're in need of some help."

Flushing with fear, he felt his body pale as ice shot from his heart through his veins to his toes. So, the man had known why Sasuke was lying in the cold, lying in the snow, lying to die. So, he had pretended not to understand why he had been traveling after dark in the forest, had known but remained silent. So, he knew how weak Sasuke really was. He knew fright shone from his eyes, but could not so much utter a word as suppress the burgeoning horror.

Mistaking the look in Sasuke's eyes for something—though he knew not what—Naruto continued to speak. "The onslaught of frostbite had begun to set in on you, hence the difficulty in moving your fingers and toes." Naruto coughed, blush rising to his cheeks. "If you look at your...extremities...you will see that most of you is slightly blue from the cold. Don't worry though—the feeling shall return to your body, and you'll be able to move your fingers and toes without pain or difficulty." And then he grinned.

And then Sasuke—Sasuke who had never known real love, real affection, real desire or want—realized something.

He was happy.

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::rolls eyes:: yeah I rambled in that chapter a lot...but on a sidenote...CHAPTER FIVE YAY

shadowed angels::I really hope I don't make them too OOC...but it MIGHT happen...because it's obviously an AU...but please forgive me if it does

Half-Devil::I wanted to go over certain things from both POVs...just as I'll do in the next chapter...

Smiley face reviewer::Yes, I will bring in more characters. So far, I've already planned on introducing Gaara, Hinata, and Sakura...I might add more, but I'm not certain yet

Kingforaday::Wow, I think you're my first fan XD;;; Yes, I'll keep going...all cuz of reviewers, too :3

Kira::I knooow I demand more reviews...nah, not really...I'm just glad some people are reading this and enjoying it.

xXFissshBonesssXx::Yes, I do hate it when people read and don't review...but if they like it, then I'll assume they got what I wanted them to get out of it...uhm...enjoyment X3

Tyranimo::Well, I always wanted to be a painter, but I suck. So, I write :3

Ghostnina85::Well, I hope this chapter pleases you...::grin::

Plur::You'll find out more about my Naruto, I guarantee it

NephilimTear::Thank you for read, honey. That meant a lot to me

LeMoNsChAn::OMG MY BABY!! YOU READ XDD

Aurum::Haha, you're the first reviewer of this chapter—just because of you, I wrote another chapter...much love ::huggle::

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I hope you guys liked that chapter...also, who knew pizza was so damn sexy?...::scampers off::


	6. Part 1 of first Plot Arc

Disclaimer::If I actually owned them, updates would be on time XD;

AN::…I am so sorry about how long it took to update ::pants and runs around frantically:: I've had a lot of family issues and stress…gomen ::bows::

But, I have about 4 chapters written up that are going to take place in the near future…and I promise the next few chapters will involve a change of setting…::scampers off to bed::

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Acid and fire and love and lust, liquid and ice and hate and hope, death and life and chaos and calm. Everything was different, nothing had changed. Heat and burning, hope and craving, need and want and desire and disgust. Emotions, thoughts, dreams, prayers. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, didn't want to live, couldn't bear the thought of death. Sin and sainthood, chastity and sex, promiscuity and innocence, belief and denial and faith and adolescence and adulthood. Everything was different. Nothing had changed.

Those eyes, those black, dark orbs, glittering gems of moist tissue, sparkling in the dim firelight, blazed with their own flickering flame. Echoing with ghastly chants, seemingly shouting the unintelligibly garbled moans and groans of a foreign monetary, pain glowed from within him, threatening to consume them both. Adolescence lost, the look of a child who had been forced to mature too suddenly and in doing so never truly becoming an adult shined from the pale face, peering at him with a sort of nervous uncertainty.

He knew the intensity of his gaze, knew he was unable to tear his eyes away from the smooth skin, knew his gaping stare went noticed by the pale man. Clenching his fists tightly, heart burning with painful concentration, feeling as though he stared at a fade, a shroud, that would disappear from his side if he risked to blink. They hung there, hovered, suspended, like two tiny hummingbirds, wings moving so rapidly it was imperceptible.

Sometime during the night, he had flicked the light switch, bathing the room in darkness. Even then, the only illumination on the boy's face burned from the sputtering flames gutting in the fireplace, slivers of light licking his cheek from the silver moonlight. Onyx eyes glimmered and danced in the bobbing light, sparkling with an intense, painful kind of fire, glittering intensely. He felt as though he could slip away in those eyes, forget everything while he drowned, being absorbed and becoming one with their passionate shine.

And then the angel spoke, and he felt the true depths of eternity, the true extension of an endless abyss in that second. His heart leapt, mind soared, and he realized, vaguely, the extent of his attraction towards this almost too-beautiful being. "Do you suppose I could stay here for a few days?" he asked quietly, voice low, dipping like the wings of a bird.

Licking his suddenly chapped lips, Naruto nodded, bobbing his head slightly. "Yes, of course you are welcome to stay here for as long as you need." His eyes slipped from the man's face, focusing on the folds curling around his stomach, plucking at the fabric. "However, shouldn't you contact your family?" His blue eyes flitted to his wrist, peering at the hands of his watch. "The sun will be up soon, and I'm sure they're worried about you."

For the first time in his life, Naruto wished he was female, wished he could simply fling his arms around the man's neck. How he prayed, begged of some unknown gods to change his anatomy then and there, make it possible for him to banish the pained expression passing over that fair face with a hug or even a gentle kiss. He shook his head, then, knowing such thoughts were the childhood daydreams of an adolescent, one who still believed in fairy tales and ghost stories. Nothing in life works the way you want it to. Nothing like that, anyway.

Sasuke's coal eyes shot downwards as his head turned to the left, peering at the hands he had clasped together in his lap. Dark hair cascaded over his cheeks, shadowing his countenance, making it impossible for Naruto to be sure he had seen anything in those eyes at all. But any doubts he had were lashed away as the man spoke, his voice low, deep, intense and slightly wavering. "I haven't got a family, not anymore."

Several of the most important rules of Naruto's profession involved guidelines on the "patient-doctor" relationship. One of them happened to be a warning against situations like this, directing the patient's current life be known about in detail, more or less. Naruto winced, features contorting as he shied away from his brash comment. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't—"

"—You don't have anything to apologize," came the almost too-cheerful interruption, smile plastered onto the man's face as he lifted his eyes to Naruto's. "You didn't mean to say anything offensive and you didn't." He sighed softly, scooting lower in the sheets and resting his head on his pillow, staring at the ceiling. "We both have a past, and neither of us knows each other's."

He opened and shut his mouth several times, like a soundless cuckoo clock, noiselessly chirping away the hours. He wished he had some well-thought, refined comment, rebuttal to the man's words, but his mind would not work. He simply nodded, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. Several long minutes of silence echoed throughout the room, and Ookami moaned from his bed before the fireplace, as though trying to create something to break the deathly quiet.

"What kind of dog is he?" Sasuke asked, shifting uncomfortably beneath his covers. Naruto suddenly longed to be in his bed, feeling more tired than one should after having been awake nearly a full night.

"He's a wolf's son, but his mother was an Akita," he answered, face melding affectionately as he pursed his lips and summoned the animal. Silver fur shimmered as he padded to his master, snuffing slightly at having been roused from his nap. "His mother was my first dog, and he was the only one of the pups I decided to keep." As if to indicate whom their conversation was being spoken about, his fingers deftly scrubbed along the dog's chin, tugging affectionately on one thin whisker. "But," he sighed softly, scratching the wolf's velveteen ears, "home isn't big enough for him to fully stretch his legs and play. He's a big kid," he laughed quietly.

"Home?" Sasuke asked, the tone of his voice indicating the man had assumed the cabin to be the blonde's permanent abode.

"I'm a resident of Hawthorne, back East. I visit this cabin I inherited every winter—it's a nice place to relax, and Ookami likes it." He grinned at Sasuke, teeth glinted in the waning moonlight. "Not to mention, nothing boring ever happens when he and I are here."

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Alright, the ending might have felt a bit abrupt, but I toyed with the idea of making a really long chapter, and decided to separate them in two…updates will be back regularly starting next Tuesday…x3;


	7. Part 2 of the first Plot Arc

Disclaimer::All I really want for Christmas this year is Gaara, Sasuke, and Naruto under the tree—but separated…they're like dogs in heat…rawr…

AN::Yeah, okay, I know you probably thought I wasn't going to have this update in this week…so HAH XD; I actually have it—posted and done. I'm actually kind of glad how this chapter turned out, considering I didn't want to get tooo much into what happens at the end…yet :3;

Also…::blushesaliittle:: This might sound kind of…well, bitchy…but could you leave a comment/review if you read it? It can just be something short like "Hi." Yeah, that'd be nice. See, I actually wasn't planning on putting this one out so early, but…well…I got some reviews last-minute and they made me finish this baby up. So yay…and now I'm done with begging for reviews…Enjoy :3

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Cold, frosty, chilling, biting and stinging cold. All around there was nothing but an icy frost along his body, covering him like a blanket of thick snow. He was freezing, dying, heart clamped and suffocating, fighting silently, motionlessly, knowing it was a lost cause, trying anyway. It stretched on endlessly, an emptiness void, filled only by the burdening cold, absent of all warmth. And then it all melted away, banished to the farthest reaches of his soul by one touch. One burning, scalding, searing caress had made his heart stop hurting.

Stories are often told of a prince or princess, questing to become the perfect ruler for their kingdom, to slay the dragon, or to simply find the one they love. It could have been a journey to survive from wicked step-parents or fleeing from a curse. It could have been the task to find the princess and kiss her, awakening her from a deep sleep or give her the lost glass slipper. Or it could have been the prince rescuing his love from the snow.

Whether eccentricism was to blame, or frostbite affected the mind in certain instances, he did not know. And really, he knew nothing beyond the crackling of the all-but dead embers, low humming grunts of a dog settling before the fireplace, shifting of a man beside his bed, moving quietly, trying not to disturb him. He sighed quietly, aware his alteration in slowed breathing would alert the other human to his awakened status, not really caring.

Their conversation had ebbed and died after several hours of talk, never an awkward lull or random silence in either of their speech. He wasn't sure if the other man was an avid speaker, hoping he was, that gentle, soothing voice pleasant to his ears, but he himself did not fancy chic-chat over solitary quiet.

Which was why he had been so surprised when Naruto glanced at his watch, staring at his wrist in surprise. It was well after sunrise, though they could not tell, having pulled the curtains shut the instant they started speaking, both enjoying the dark warmth. After much firm instance from the blonde, he had given into the man's wishes, lying on the bed, shutting his eyes and trying to sleep.

But Sasuke could not sleep, would not sleep, mind racing with confused thoughts, heart with emotions. Why was he so comfortable in this stranger's home, in this stranger's bed, smelling his sheets and scent? What was this feeling that turned his world upside down whenever the blonde sighed next to him? Why did he feel…safe?

Why did he feel happy?

"Still awake?" a quiet voice whispered from beside him, and he turned his ebony eyes to the orator, nodding wordlessly. A troubled expression passed behind cerulean eyes as pages of the book he had been reading brushed against one another, cover pressing down on them. Flicking off the switch to the tiny lamp nearby, Naruto inhaled deeply, sighing quietly. "It's been nearly an hour since you tried to get some rest, Sasuke."

"I know," he responded simply, finding no need to vocalize some superfluous counter, opting for a minimal answer. Struggling to support himself, he realized his body still wasn't functioning as it usually did, sighing in frustration.

He knew Naruto's eyes watched him, concentrated on him, never leaving his face, his shoulders, his back. Dimly, he wondered if it was how a research subject felt, but he was rather positive a lab rat wouldn't have begun blushing as the doctor watched it. Luckily, the room was dark enough, the only light in the room the crimson glow from the fire, if it could be graced with such a title.

"Try not to exert yourself so much—your body still isn't in perfect condition," he chided gently, resting a hand on Sasuke's shoulder. Squeezing reassuringly, he continued, "You're not going to feel in peak form for a bit longer, either. But don't worry—you'll be back to normal in no time." He smiled at the young man on the bed, wide grin spreading across his tanned face.

Hearts are acrobats, Sasuke realized, or at least his was, the way it was twisting and turning, flipping and flopping. He blinked, swallowing hard, shivering against Naruto's touch, running a finger across the sheets. He gnawed on his lip thoughtfully, searching for the proper way to phrase the thoughts running through his mind.

"Something the matter?" Naruto asked, removing his hand and placing it in his lap, peering at Sasuke's face. Flicking a stray lock of golden hair out of his face, he scooted off his chair, leveling his face with the ivory-faced boy. Black met blue, drowning in the oceans of glass, pure, silken, smooth and oh-so captivating.

Had he been thinking properly, he would have pulled away, would have looked away, would have done anything to stop from being overwhelmed by the deep azure grasp. But he wasn't thinking properly, wasn't even thinking, content and rather proud of himself for the remembering the base skill of breathing. He shook his head ever so slightly, raven-hair moving forward, brushing Naruto's nose, the distance between them so tiny he could see the blonde tinge to the blackness of the doctor's eyelashes where they met his skin. "Not really," he said, mouth finally locating the forgotten ability to speak.

The silver-furred dog that had lain on the floor forgotten rose to his feet then, wanting attention. It wasn't really a wonder, Sasuke knew, the way the wolf-beast craved notice. His master's tanned face was nearly pressed against Sasuke's, quiet conversation passing between the two of them in hushed tones and low whispers. With a low grunt, the animal nuzzled his snout between Sasuke and Naruto, spreading them apart with a cold black nose.

Naruto laughed as he returned to his chair, resting a hand on the bridge of his nose, absently stroking Ookami. Sasuke didn't need to be a mind-reader to tell what was taking place inside that golden-crowned skull. His future, his fate, his destiny was being decided as lapis eyes flashed from his face to the wolf's, back to his pale cheeks.

"You're lying," Naruto said quietly, voice surprisingly lacking the accusatory edge anyone could have anticipated would linger behind the words. His face had not faltered, smile still on his full, pink lips, fingers scratching the dog's brow fondly. "Where will you go when I return to the city in a week?"

A week? That was all the time he had left? Only a week and then he would…

It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had been in the snow, locking up his flat and heading out into the cold frost, every intention to die. He realized it hadn't been more than 48 hours, less than a day and a half since he had met Naruto, been in this bed, in this house. And yet he felt as though he had been here all his life, truly belonged here, and couldn't bear the thought of leaving. But in a week…he would have to.

"Not sure," he replied honestly, brow creasing in silent worry, not wanting to burden Naruto with his thoughts. He fisted the sheets idly, prodding the soft, downy pillow with a finger, picturesque example of a child trying to avoid an uncomfortable or unpleasant topic by simply ignoring it. Ookami, having received his required amount of pettings from Naruto moved to Sasuke's side, jabbing him in the ribs gently with his muzzle. Jumping slightly at the unexpectedly wet, cold nose prodding him insistently, Sasuke's hand glided to the dog's velvet forehead, stroking the wolf. "I don't have any family I can return to…and I've been living alone for almost five years. I'll probably find some place to crash for a while."

"But you've got to walk wherever it is, right?" Nodding quietly, he continued to pet the dog, sighs and grunts of content happiness warming his heart like only a dog can. Naruto rose slowly, stretching his shoulders, reaching for the sky. Sasuke's eyes instinctively followed the man's movement, blushing as his shirt rose to the middle of his abdomen, showing a rather well-toned abdomen. "Well, then it's settled."

And with that, Naruto turned, walking towards the other room, leaving Sasuke staring after him. He tried to stand, but he couldn't quite make his body respond the way he wanted it to, and he didn't really want to move anyway. If he was alright, then maybe he would have to leave before the end of the week—something he firmly opposed. "What's settled?" he asked after a few minutes of solitude, only Ookami keeping him company in the room.

From the hallway, Naruto reemerged, the milky-white paint of the door-frame surrounding him like a gate. "What you're going to do when I leave in a week. You're coming with me."

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Kinda long chapter, ne? Hope you enjoyed it…x3;


	8. Introduction of a New Character

Disclaimer:: ;-; If I owned them, they'd all probably be dead because of NEGLECT by now.

AN:: OH EM EFF GEE! I totally suck. I'm sorry about the whole month hiatus on this fic. Not on purpose. Uhm…Marry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Kwanza…whatever it is you celebrate(d). HAPPY NEW YEAR TOO!

Sidenote:: MY BIRTHDAY IS ON MONDAY (January 10) Hehe.

Okay.

MUCH thanks to Erzengel—because of you I was able to stay up an hour past the time I should have been to bed and finish this chapter. I owe you. A hell of a lot.

Anyway, shutting up. Enjoy the chapter. ::flees::

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Chapter 8

Had he been a poet, his mind would have instantaneously composed sonnets and ballads proclaiming his undying affection for a man he barely knew. Had he been a craftsman, a tradesman, a wizard, a genius, he would have made, bought, summoned, invented something to convey the feelings he had. But he was nothing so flamboyant. He was himself--clumsy, awkward, unsure what the feeling which coursed through his veins, heightened his senses actually was.

Oh, but he knew! He knew with every fiber of his being, like a mother knows her own child out of thousands, that inexplicable bond. He knew. And that frightened him more than not knowing.

They barely knew each other, something that should have been his first clue, his second, or maybe his final indicator that something was happening to him. But he refused to acknowledge. Neglect--or maybe bullheadedness--had become the connector, the solder between both strangers. Neglect had saved them and would bind them. Yet he did not know his own craving to ignore the truth would solidify that "something" between the pair.

His face was flushed, his ears felt as though they had been set on fire. Like a sentient guard standing watch over them, immobile and omnipotent, time hung suspended. Hours, days, months, years could have passed as he locked his gaze with the raven-haired man. Surprise reigned triumphant on that pale face, but he knew he bore a similar expression.

Words failed him, flunking and abandoning him, and so he just stood. And stared. And waited, waiting for something to happen, anything. The world to explode, a crack in the floor to appear and swallow him into its earthen jaws, an air raid to rain down barrages of missiles. He waited for the end of all things. Anything to save him.

He wet his lips with a roving tongue, swallowing thickly, wanting him to say something, anything, just as long as it would bring an end to the silence. That overbearing calm, that zealous prophet of stillness clenching his throat and lungs. Something niggled in the back of his skull, telling him he was making things much worse than they truly were. That same, rational segment of his brain screamed that he needed to take a deep breath and put things in perspective. So this stranger, this man he barely knew wouldn't live with him. And? Why did he feel as though his heart would burst if Sasuke said no? Why did everything seem so fixated, so focused on this one centripetal moment, like the center of a whirlpool? He didn't know why...but...it did.

Ookami yawned loudly, sounding like a mock-lion as he stretched, back arching upwards. Naruto's eyes moved from the Uchiha's to his dog, peering at the beast, thankful for some respite, some break in the impromptu staring contest. Words lanced through his ears, playing against his ear drums. He interpreted the timbre of the man's voice before even comprehending the words. It didn't really matter, though. They weren't the ones he wanted to hear.

"Can I think about it for a moment?" Sasuke's hands were folded in his lap, raven gaze fixed upon them. Naruto peered at him intently for a moment before nodding, smiling cheerfully.

"Of course. I had to make a phone call, anyway." Keeping the crestfallen depression from his voice, he turned on his heels, clucking to the wolf-dog. Ookami trotted away from Sasuke's side, following behind his master as they left the other human behind with whatever thoughts he had.

His feet padded softly on the floor, muffled by thick grey woolen socks, the warmth from the coarse material creating a barrier of heat between his flesh and the wooden panels lining the ground in his hallway. His cornflower blue eyes drifted lazily along the paper covered walls mottled with framed portraits and paintings, scanning each of them. His alert and attentive eyes memorized them, studied them, as though for the first time, once more feeling a burst of appreciation for his uncle's artistic taste.

He had never known his uncle, but being the childless man's only nephew, he had been the obvious inheritor of the cabin. Sometimes he felt as though he could sense his uncle in the walls, watching over and protecting him. It was why he believed he was safe here, believed he could rest here, as though this was his sanctuary from the rest of the world. As long as he was within its oaken structure, basked before a crackling fire or trudging around in the banks of snow just behind the threshold, he could be happy. Only in his reclusiveness he found true companionship with the peaceful solitude.

Soon he stood before a telephone, the ebony colored plastic decoratively placed in the center of doilies, atop a mahogany stand. Sighing momentarily, as though gathering strength before slaying a dragon, before traversing a desert, before scaling a mountain, he hefted the receiver to his mouth, fingers dexterously clacking numbers in the turn-style dial on the antique piece of equipment.

Wetting his lips with a sandpaper tongue, he closed his eyes, bracing himself.

"Hello?" the light voice murmured from the other end of the line. Glancing at his hand, he grinned faintly. She always was awake early. Even on a Saturday. "This is Haruno Sakura. May I ask who's calling?"

"Sakura, why are you being so formal with me?" he smirked, voice lilting slightly with his good humor. Gods, how good it felt to hear the voice of someone he knew from home…He refused to accept the fact that every part of his body reminded him that he was more than "good" when he listened to Sasuke.

"Dr. Uzumaki!" she cried happily, glee evident in her voice even though they were separated by thousands of miles, connected by metal, rubber, and plastic. Eyelids slid shut, and he simply listened to her, imaging she stood before him, right in front of him, arms around his neck, hugging him and pulling him closer. "I'm so glad to hear from you! I was really worried about you. When will you be back?"

He knew it was unrequited, but he couldn't help love Sakura. "I'll be back in a week. I just wanted to make sure everything was alright back at the clinic." Nurse, Secretary, and the one in charge of holding down the fort while he was up at the cabin, Naruto couldn't help but be amazed at her strength. Having known her for almost all their lives, he had been there during her transformation from tittering, overbearing and obnoxious teen to mature, responsible woman. And somehow his childhood crush on his friend had become adult love on his employee. "And please—Call me Naruto. Just because I'm in charge of your paycheck doesn't mean you have to pretend you respect me," he teased gently.

"Alright, alright," Sakura laughed quietly, voice sultry and smooth, like rich chocolate, despite the early hours. "Naruto, you sound much happier since you left. How is Ookami?"

"He's doing fine, thanks for asking. Hungry as always." He idly reached down and scratched the dog's ears, the beast moaning quietly before plopping down at his feet, seated on his haunches, scooting closer to Naruto's hand. Grin spreading from ear to ear, he opened his eyes, looking to the wolf-dog, sunlight streaming through a nearby window causing his fur to gleam in shimmers and ripples of silver and gold, jeweler's dream. "The clinic doing alright without me?"

Though he was the only doctor, she was a licensed nurse, and capable of managing things in his absence. He could almost imagine her nodding and cocking her head in that familiar way. "Yes, everything is FINE. You can stop worrying. Hinata has been over recently though, wondering when you'll be back. I think she likes you," the woman teased.

"She probably just wants to make sure her health is still stable," he sighed sadly, wishing he could be of more help to the woman. "Neji has been taking her, I assume. For a cousin, he's behaving like a protective brother." He laughed, feeling his momentary guilt dissipating like parting clouds. "Maybe he always accompanies her because he's afraid I'll steal her away." The both laughed together, simultaneously picturing Neji defending his younger cousin.

"I miss you," she said, voice cheerful, warm, dripping with amusement and friendly contentment. Friendly. Pertaining to friends. Friends…

"You too, Sakura. I have to get going now." He couldn't decide whether it was because he suddenly felt so low or because he wanted to know if Sasuke would decline his invitation. Neither were options he particularly fancied. "Take care of yourself."

"Oh, wait!" Sakura cried impatiently, insistently, like a child who was ready to share their secret. "Mrs. Nara is having a baby soon! She and the father dropped by earlier today because she'd been throwing up early in the morning. I knew right away she was pregnant. She's glowing, Naruto. Can't wait for you to see her." She sighed, almost wistfully. "I'll let you go…But just think! She's going to have a new visitor in nine months!"

Naruto blushed awkwardly, deciding now would be a good time to tell her about…Sasuke…even if the Uchiha would not return. He inhaled deeply, gathering himself together. "I might—we might—have a new visitor in a week."

"Wh—what?" she asked, trying to maintain her composure, voice wavering slightly as she failed. "What are you talking about?"

"I…err…found someone in the woods," Naruto said, wondering absently why he felt as though he was confessing to some affair, some scandalous interaction between him and Sasuke. "And he's coming home to live with me."

----------------------------------------------------

It's funny…I usually dislike Sakura…but I actually LIKE her in this. Oh well…don't tell anyone. Thanks for reading. Sorry if Naruto sounded over-confident about Sasuke going with him…but come on. It's a Narusasu or SasuNaru fic…(I still can't decide)…if Sasuke was left behind, what would happen to the fic? Tell me what pairing you think it should be, if you care…::hops off::


	9. Sasuke Decides

Disclaimer: O.O DID YOU GUYS SEE HOW HOT KISHIMOTO MADE GAARA:stilldroolingalittlebit:3;; I like that man once more. Even if he owns Naruto and everyone else.

AN: Sorta long chapter this time. Sorry about the horrible delay. Dabbled a bit over at Didn't go too well, actually. I just do not write good oneshots. Anyway…I hope this chapter wasn't too boring or slow. I promise you the next one will have a mild time skip…

Like

A week.

Enjoy.

:grins:

-

He wasn't sure when it had started—maybe when he was still a child, vulnerable and oblivious to the wickedness of the world. He wasn't sure why it had begun—perhaps he had been too willing to believe, too needy, desiring love he would never receive. He wasn't sure who had done it—probably it could be chased back to her, or maybe even to his father—but it didn't matter. Not anymore.

Nothing really mattered. He was alive—against his own will—and was safe, and warm, and felt almost…wanted. He couldn't force himself to believe it, however. Everything he had ever trusted, ever loved, had been yanked away from him like a yo-yo, dangled before his nose and wrenched away, whisked off in the darkness, leaving him alone, chest and shoulders heaving. He could have cried, wept, tried to end his miserable existence just then—surely, he could slit his wrists—but…it didn't matter. Not anymore.

Not while he was here.

Jet-black eyebrows twitched irritably as the tinkling sound of effeminate laughter reached him, wafting towards him, vibrations in the air mocking him as they banged against his eardrums. Relaxing his vice-grip on the sheets, he forced himself to take deep breaths, quelling the roaring emotions and mixed feelings coursing along his pale form.

So what if Naruto was talking to a woman? He wasn't gay, or anything. Sasuke sighed, turning towards the window, staring across the panoramic vista of white, coal eyes darting from each glistening mounds with surprising alertness. It wasn't as though he was particularly fascinated by them—they were just snow, after all—but something to take his mind off who Naruto spoke to was better than nothing.

Flopping back against the bed like a dead fish, he gazed intently at the ceiling, gaze following the intricate swirls of the granular wood. Lazily, his fingers ruffled at the material on the blankets covering him, fondling their delicate softness. He inhaled deeply, the scent of wood and smoke and dog and…Naruto…assailing him, drowning him like a heady wine. He felt nearly giddy, cheeks ruddy with excitement.

Coughing quietly, he stilled his mind. He was an adult! Not a schoolgirl, elated at the fact that she had found an attractive prince! Naruto would not whisk Sasuke away on some mythical adventure! There were no pedophiliac villains! There were no hidden identities, no demonic possessions! Naruto would not save Sasuke from the clutches of a purple-tongued cross-dresser!

But Naruto would save Sasuke from himself.

Sasuke sighed faintly, mouth suddenly feeling to dry, and he sucked in his lower lip, nibbling on it in thought. It was a habit, really. Vaguely, he remembered several people commenting on how much he looked like a small child when he bit his lip. His mind was taking bizarre tangents, he knew, but what else could he do? Think about Naruto's question? He tried to avoid the subject the best he could, wondering when the hell Naruto would hang up.

And, of course, trying to avoid Naruto's question made Sasuke's mind hone in on it like male dogs to a bitch in heat. As though reading his mind, Ookami moaned loudly from the other room. Sasuke blinked once, twice, shaking his head.

Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand, the Uchiha tugged a blanket upwards with his free hand, snuggling into the bed. He wasn't tired, exactly—restless, more like. The swirling patterns of the boards lining the ceiling were a weak distraction, one that would no longer occupy his attention. He could hear Naruto finishing up his discussion in the other room, the customary bullshit before one hangs up spewing from both ends of the line.

Sasuke's gaze drifted from the ceiling to the crackling embers in the fireplace, teeth still gnawing at his lip. Weighing his options, he could feel his mind computing and processing information. To his surprise and chagrin, he realized both options frightened him. Death now sent a fell chill down his spine—something that had never occurred to him. Before meeting the blonde doctor, he couldn't have cared less about his own life or death, so long as the hurting ended. But he didn't hurt so much now, for some reason. And as much as he wanted to give credit to himself, Sasuke knew he was not becoming adjusted due to his own influence. A certain blue-eyed boy was the one who deserved praise, not himself.

Which made him wonder why, exactly, he didn't want to accompany the blonde back home. Excluding the fact that their entire relationship was entirely irrational, and they barely knew one another, had only known each other for two days, it was absurd that Naruto should ask Sasuke to return with him.

But why—Gods why?—did Sasuke feel the only true answer was "yes."

He could hear Naruto hang up the phone in the other room, the plastic connecting with a faint clatter, Sasuke's alert senses detecting the noise instantaneously. He had been straining to hear the voice on the other end, he realized with a faint blush. He refused to wonder why.

Shifting his placid stare from the fireplace to the arched doorway leading towards the hall, Sasuke waited, anticipating Naruto to re-emerge. Yet the man remained in the hallway, feet never moving, dog never leaving his side, simply standing. Sasuke fervently longed to rush to the blonde and make his pain subside. Grinning wryly to himself he looked away, gazing at his hands. Odd that Sasuke—angsting, tortured Sasuke—would want to cease someone's hurt. And yet he did. Oh, how he did.

"N..Naruto?" he called out hesitantly, voice cracking as though he was undergoing a post-pubescent vocal transformation. His embarrassment did little to abate the slight blush to his cheeks.

"Yes?" the blonde called from the other room, floor creaking beneath his feet as he walked closer to Sasuke. "Have you decided?"

"I have," Sasuke said, the words hitching in his throat. No, no he hadn't! He didn't know what he wanted to do anymore, save crawl beneath his covers and have someone tell him what to do. Why had he wanted to grow up so badly when he was younger? It wasn't worth it—he would have given anything, in that moment, to be a little boy once more, simply being told what to do. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he strongly resembled said youthful child, the way he nibbled on his lower lip.

"And?" Naruto asked, voice empty of emotion. Twisting his fingers in the sheet, Sasuke wondered if Naruto really cared which way he decided. But the instant the blonde appeared in the doorway, his dancing blue eyes and slightly ashen face clued Sasuke in instantly. Naruto was just as nervous as he was, anticipating his answer eagerly, wondering what Sasuke would say.

Sasuke wondered, as well. Deep breaths, he reminded himself gently. In and out. It can't be so bad. Whatever happens, happens. Don't spend time worrying about it. Just speak—

"I will go," he murmured, face paling as the words left his mouth. He tilted his head upward, staring at Naruto intently, certain he had said the wrong thing. Why had his tongue been so brash? Surely Naruto wouldn't be—

"Glad to hear that!" Naruto's face was slit in two, toothy grin beaming down at the dark-haired Uchiha. Hands planted at his hips, the smiling boy gazed at Sasuke appraisingly for a moment, before he continued. "I really am glad to hear that, Sasuke…"

Had he been a cat, the paler man would have been purring like a wild thing, so happy did he feel. Absently, he wondered if it was a false hope, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore.

Not while he was with Naruto.

-

Fluffy little thing, wasn't it? Hope you enjoyed. Leave a review to make me smile:3;


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